Light in my Darkest Night
by sbarra
Summary: Do you ever watch the episode 'Amazing Grace' and wish that Margaret had not returned from the 'dead? I know I do, and that's why I'm writing this fanfic! During a storm, Christy and Neil shelter in a cave. The Cove's people see this as tantamount to courtship and Neil soon finds himself proposing to Christy to save her reputation. What if...
1. Chapter 1

'**Light in my Darkest Night'**

_**Author's Note:**__ In some nineteenth century romances, a woman discovered to have spent a night alone with a man (without a chaperone) had apparently been 'compromised' within the eyes of society, however platonic the relationship. In 'Eye of the Storm', did you notice how Ruby Mae reacted at the idea of Miss Alice leaving Christy and David alone at the Mission whilst she goes on a trip? (Miss Ida was visiting Mrs Grantland in Boston at this point) Previously in the series, Mr Coburn had taken his daughters out of the Mission school when he saw the Preacher and Christy enjoying a moonlit stroll. Also, in 'Amazing Grace', when Christy cooks for Neil, she says 'I'm not a fool. It's getting dark,' when he asks if she wants to stay for supper. Historically, it seems, that when caught without a chaperone, an honorable man felt compelled to propose; the woman would have to accept or else be ruined. It doesn't matter if they can't stand the sight of one another; the wedding satisfied societal expectations. In reading books like 'Letters to Lori' by Barbara League, one comes across anecdotes about mountain marriages as well. I find the idea of it all really intriguing and I hope you do too! __This is a 'What if' scenario whereby the episode 'Amazing Grace' does not involve Margaret's return from the 'dead.' Neil was widowed in the manner in which he recounted in the previous episode. Instead, a series of events occur, which lead to Christy and Neil marrying long before anyone could have ever predicted! Just to clarify, this means that the events of the following episodes have all occurred: 'Christy', 'Lost and Found', 'Both Your Houses', 'A Closer Walk', 'Judgment Day' and 'Eye of the Storm'; the variation to the story arc starts when Christy and Neil meet at Aunt Hattie's cabin in 'Amazing Grace'. _

_**Disclaimer: **__The Marshall-LeSourd Family owns the story of 'Christy'. I am in no way seeking profit or credit for Catherine Marshall's story.  
_

**Chapter 1**

As Winter began to settle in the Cove, Christy was surprised to find that she did not need to hibernate indoors like a bear. The cold air was so exhilarating; it made her want to explore. Christy was just meeting the owner of the neat cabin she had ventured upon, when she heard a familiar voice calling from outside.

"Hattie, you home?" Neil entered carrying a poke. He looked pleasantly surprised; "I didn't expect to see you here."

Christy smiled, "We were just meeting."

Neil nodded and turned to his Aunt, "Jed Homer paid me in beans; will you take some for me?"

Hattie leant forward and touched them curiously, "Take time to boil them up right; will you stay a spell?"

Neil frowned, "Nah, I'm sorry - I've been up all night with Jed's girl Lily – her appendix wasn't leaving without a fight."

Christy was surprised to see how 'at home' he was with this lady he had never mentioned. Then again, he was quite an enigmatic man. Just last month, it had been such a surprise to find that he had a locked laboratory where he was trying to find a cure for a horrible eye disease that afflicted his highlanders.

The gracious lady stroked the doctor's cheek and then softly said, "Neil, you still have to eat."

He silently brushed a kiss across the woman's forehead and then prepared to leave.

Christy was filled with compassion, "Well, I could fix you something…" She hesitated nervously, "…if you'd like, before you go to bed?"

Neil was very pleased, "Well, there's an offer that doesn't come my way too often." He smiled, "I guess I'll accept."

He walked over to the door and waited for Christy to catch up. Christy stooped in front of Hattie with an outstretched hand. "We can visit some other time?" she asked; surprised when Hattie merely nodded rather than shaking on it.

Neil's hastened to save the young teacher from any further embarrassment, "Hattie, Miss Huddleston's poking her hand in your direction."

His Aunt quickly reached out and clasped the Christy's hand. "Please, come back," she enthused warmly.

After mounting, Neil eagerly lifted her onto the back of his horse. Christy held his jacket lightly at first, but soon found her hands tightly clasping Neil's sides as Charlie began to gather speed. The horse was obviously eager to leave the trees laced with snowy ice behind him and have a feed in a warm barn.

"Whoa," Neil eased the horse's speed, realizing Christy's fright from her sharp intakes of breath and the way her petite frame was hugging his.

"Sorry!" Christy mumbled into his shoulder. "I know you're both hungry, but I felt like I was going to slip right off." She laughed nervously. "I'm no horsewoman!"

"You just need to take the reins a little more is all," Neil challenged her fondly, loosening his grip and reaching back to let her grasp hold of part of the braided leather.

She found herself hugging him even more tightly as she leant forward and listened to his reassuring words as they shared the reins. Christy was surprised at how content she felt, as she and Neil settled into a steady rhythm. His muscular frame and kind words made her feel warm despite the chilly air. Charlie knew the way and nimbly carried them up the last rise to Neil's ancestral home.

As Neil lifted her down from the saddle, Christy found herself almost blushing at the intensity of his gaze. Confused and oddly breathless, she hurriedly went inside to begin preparing a meal, while he saw to his horse. Neil returned and watched her humming to herself whilst she chopped up vegetables. He had only experienced her presence in his home a few times, but each time he did – even when they disagreed – there was a certain joy he felt in having such a beautiful and caring woman at his hearth.

He remembered how vehemently Christy had told him that she believed in his ability to heal Becky O'Teale's eyesight on one of her last visits. She had grasped his hand with such passion and looked at him with such fierce pride that he had been astonished. He took his jacket off and hung it on its hook.

"I hadn't realised that Miss Hattie was blind," Christy mumbled, worried for the older lady's health.

Neil stoked the fire, "She has trachoma. She lost her sight completely several years ago.

"I couldn't imagine living up there alone, much less blind!" Christy exclaimed.

Neil watched her chopping up vegetables, "Hmm, well people stop in on her. Aunt Hattie knows every story and song in these mountains; a side of meat or a basket of corn trades nicely for a very good yarn."

He grabbed some more ingredients and stood close behind her, breathing in her rosy scent. Neil gazed fondly at her and placed them down on the chopping board. "I'm not afraid of a little spice."

Christy smiled at his impudent smirk and then changed the subject. "Is she your real Aunt?"

Neil nodded, "My father's baby sister."

"I've never seen her around the Cove before," she observed.

Neil shrugged, "Oh, she stays pretty close to her mountain. Hattie's very set in her ways, like most women I know." Christy reaction was to his cheeky comment was to loudly crack an egg into the bowl. Neil smirked and fished out a piece of eggshell from the stew. "Eh, I prefer to eat my shell later…"

Christy feigned exasperation while he admired the way that her coat set off her blue eyes, "Did you want to cook?" Neil shook his head slightly and retreated to the table. "Actually I'm quite good in the kitchen!" She added a little defensively.

Neil settled into his chair, "Aye, I have no doubt that you'll make someone a fine wife one day." He remembered her standing by that very fire in fine lavender silk. He was glad when she broke into his reverie. Surely, she would never see herself as his 'fine wife.'

"Did Hattie ever marry?" she asked.

"She married Timothy McCabe. Gave him three beautiful children. They all died of typhus," he recounted in a matter-of-fact tone.

"She lost everyone?"

Neil nodded, "It was a long time ago. She wouldn't want your pity."

He stood up, wondering if that's how she saw him: a widower to be pitied. Was that why she was cooking for him? Neil sighed. He walked to the hearth and then tasted the food. "Hmm…" he smiled at Christy, " tastes good! You're sure you wouldn't want some?" he tried.

"No, no they're expecting me back at the Mission," Christy said quickly. The arguments she had had with Miss Alice and David when they last found her alone at the Doctor's cabin were still fresh in her mind. As much as she appreciated their apologies, she did not want to stir up any more jealousy or resentment.

Neil sighed, "I'll ride you back shortly - you're not going to argue and insist you can do it by yourself, are you?"

Christy kept her tone light; "It's getting dark soon. I'm on the side of a mountain; whatever you think of me, doctor, I'm not a fool." She smiled at his bemused expression.

"I've never thought that," he asserted.

Lightning seemed to pulse between them for a moment and then Neil settled once more at his small table.  
Christy began to tidy up, stealing glances at him and thinking about how he wasn't being his usual, difficult self. She thought again about how relieved she was when he had not taken the job in Baltimore last month. Her heart had leapt for joy that her friend would not be leaving Cutter Gap any time soon. She felt like they both belonged there – serving the families. If only he would trust in the Lord and help the Mission. Why did he refuse to cherish all the blessings around him? Christy wondered why her feelings were so confused about this man.

Neil helped himself to another serving of the stew. She refused his offer to clean up and so he sat, slurping the warm food and watching her tidy the fixings up. Christy hummed to herself and he tried to work out the tune. It seemed familiar and he soon realised that it was a hymn that his grandmother had loved: 'Nearer my God to Thee.' He wondered how Christy could witness the suffering in the Cove and still have faith in a loving God. He was musing on this as they parted.

She had barely closed the door when Neil found his eyes growing heavy. He dozed off at the table – not having the energy to move. A loud thunderclap and bright lightning flash awoke him and he realised when he looked at the clock that barely twenty minutes had passed since Christy had departed for the Mission. Worriedly, Neil grabbed his jacket and stumbled out to the barn, he grabbed a lantern and quickly saddled up Charlie. Fortunately, his horse was used to nighttime journeys in all kinds of weather.

They set out and Neil headed the way he thought she might have headed. Flash flooding in the valleys was not unheard of at that time of year and he cursed himself for letting her assert that she would be fine to travel back alone. Once he'd travelled for about fifteen minutes, he held the lamp aloft and called her name, wondering if she would be sheltering under one of the banks of sturdier trees.

"Christy!" he yelled until he was hoarse.

He scanned the ground for any sign of footprints and peered into the darkness, looking for her. At length he decided to head straight for the Mission and seek help to find her. He tried to tell himself that she might have returned there safely after all; although even on horseback it would be highly unlikely that she could. It was then that he saw the piece of blue fabric – it looked remarkably like the colour of her skirt. Neil hopped down from Charlie who was reluctantly stomping his feet on the cold and wet slope. He reached for the fabric that had been torn off on a blackberry bush.

Neil hunched his shoulders, trying to look at his surroundings from her height – what had she seen, where had she sought shelter? It was then that he noticed a rock ledge in a nearby holler – the opening to a system of caves. He had played there as a lad with his cousins. Charlie nuzzled into his shoulder as they neared the entrance overgrown with mossy vines. Neil bent down and shone the lantern in. Christy shielded her eyes from the light and then smiled warmly – moving towards him in relief when she realised that she hadn't stumbled onto some moonshiner's still or bandit's lair. Neil smiled too, and then loudly told Charlie to go to the Mission with a scrawled note: 'Found shelter. Will be back soon. Stay safe. – CH, NM.' The horse shook his bridle and began to meander off through the trees. It was extremely hard to hear with all the echoing thunder and lightning but Neil managed to read Christy's lips as she said, "Thank you." They settled down next to each other, the lantern casting eerie shadows as the storm raged outside.


	2. Chapter 2

'**Light in my Darkest Night'**

**Chapter 2**

Neil had hoped that the storm would soon blow away towards Big Lick Springs or Cataleechie. They sat in companionable silence watching the lightning flashes illuminate the dark sky and listening to the thunder.

The storm did seem to ease a little but heavy rain soon set in. Neil knew there was no hope of making a dash for the Mission. He shrugged out of his wet coat and hung it and his saddlebags on stalagmites on the floor of the cave. He was relieved to find his shirt fairly dry.

Christy absent-mindedly placed her hand on the brown, dotted fabric of his sleeve. Neil glanced back at her in the light flickering from the kerosene lantern. He hoped that it wouldn't blow out in the strong breeze echoing through the cave.

Neil was surprised to realise that Christy seemed frightened. Her bright, glossy eyes held his for a moment. He reached for her hand, clutching her cold fingers and warming them between his own. He found it a little easier to hear now that the thunder had abated. "What is it?"

"The wind," she murmured, "It's such a strange sound – a whimpering, sobbing wind – with pain in it."

Neil squeezed her hand reassuringly; "It's your mind playing tricks on you, Lass. There's a scientific explanation for why the sound reverberates like it does. Now, you'll have to take my shirt – I can't possibly offer you my jacket, it's probably wetter than yours. You'll need to change because otherwise you'll catch a chill."

Christy blushed, "I… Here? I…"

"Take the lamp a few yards away and remove your coat and blouse; that wool skirt will have to dry out too. I'll try to build a fire near the entrance."

Christy hesitantly watched him unbuttoning his shirt until she realised the impropriety of her gaze. "No man has ever seen me in my petticoats before – not even my Father when he kisses me goodnight."

He saw how uncomfortable she was as she averted her eyes, "I am a doctor, remember. I've taken an oath to avoid harm for my patients. There's no need to worry about anything other than catching pneumonia or worse if you sit here for hours in sopping wet garments. I won't be looking at your petticoats anyway; you'll be putting my shirt on over the top. "

Christy nodded and reluctantly took his proffered shirt. She knew that she could trust him to be a gentleman. It was just such an unusual occurrence for her to disrobe where anybody could see even her bare ankles or wrists. Perhaps she was just being silly, she chided herself. She prayed that they would soon be safe at their homes and that none of the Cove's children would be harmed during the storm. Praying eased her frayed nerves. She fingered the torn fabric of her woolen skirt and then removed it quickly, relieved that her outer petticoats were only a little damp. She looked over her shoulder and saw Neil crouching in his britches – his long-john clad top bright in the moonlight. His back was to her and she saw his muscles ripple as he sorted through a pile of old branches and twigs near the cave's entrance.

Christy unbuttoned her coat, letting it fall to the ground in her haste to remove her blouse. She quickly buttoned up Neil's shirt over her chemise, corset and petticoats. He whistled absent-mindedly behind her whilst he tried to get the discarded sticks to catch. He ripped another page from his scrapbook and balled it up, blowing on it to encourage the flame to dance along beneath the kindling.

The water in Christy's boots squelched a little as she hurried over to help him, holding the light aloft.

"You may need to remove your stockings," he said as casually as he could muster. He hoped she wasn't going to make another embarrassed speech.

To his relief, she placed the lantern down near his small fire and turned away, after murmuring, "Alright, please don't turn around yet."

Neil took the wet clothes she had placed near the lantern, forcing himself not to curiously glance back at her slender legs.

The flames were beginning to flicker into life as Christy turned and self-consciously draped her stockings over another stalagmite.

The rain grew heavier as they settled beside the small fire. The ground was a bit rough and there was a smell that she couldn't quite place, but Neil had soon distracted her with some of his tall tales.

When he reached out to stroke her tangled hair back behind her ear, she stiffened. He stretched instead and then placed more wood on the fire.

"I think these are probably 'swords' from one of the O'Teale boys games," Neil said, still smiling warmly despite her sudden, awkward silence.

"They've come in handy," Christy mumbled and then asked curiously, "Why would you think it was the O'Teale's in particular?"

Neil shrugged, "Well, this cave lies in between the O'Teales' tobacco barn and the Old Cemetery so I just made an assumption."

Christy warmed her hands in front of the small fire, "What did you miss most when you were away from the Cove? When you travelled to study, I mean."

Neil sat back beside her, "Besides my family, I think it was the mountains. I thought I was sick of the sight of this place, but…"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" Christy wondered aloud, stifling a yawn.

Neil nodded, "What about you? What do you miss about Asheville?"

Christy quickly counted them off on her fingers. "My parents, my brother George, my friends from First Presbyterian, my College friends, my Father's jovial banter, my Aunt and Grandmother visiting from Charleston and the smell of roses and honeysuckle grown in my mother's garden."

"That's quite a list," Neil murmured, shifting his long legs beside her.

"I've never had to miss the Mountains though. They have always framed my life. I was born among mountains like these. All of my life their wind-swept heights have fascinated me and challenged me and steadied me…'

"Beautiful," Neil replied softly and Christy wasn't sure whether he meant the Mountains or herself.

Christy smiled shyly and then yawned once more. She fell asleep listening to his stories about his travels. Her head slowly came to rest on his shoulder. He ignored the frenzied storm outside and gazed down at her fondly, beginning to relax so that he too could sleep.

A/N - Please hit that review button (Anonymous guest reviews also gratefully accepted) :)


	3. Chapter 3

'**Light in my Darkest Night'**

**Chapter 3**

Christy awoke with a stiff neck and realised the rumbling thunder had once more disturbed her slumber. It took her a minute to remember that she had Neil were sheltering in a wet, smoky cave. The way that the doctor's chest rose and fell beneath her warm cheek soon settled her anxious heart.

Christy lay in the dark, her prayers for the Cove's safety punctuated by flashes of lightning, which illuminated the Cave's dark, rocky walls and some of their clothing hanging on stalagmites. Christy tried to stretch her aching muscles very gently – concerned that she would wake Neil. It seemed quite unkind to wake a sleep-deprived doctor merely so she could turn over!

The rainfall became heavier and the wind's wails echoed around them. Neil's snored on as she slowly switched from the side facing the cave's entrance to lie on her back. Now by the light from the flickering lantern, Christy could see his handsome face. He seemed so calm when he was asleep – the frown lines relaxed, no worry etched about his resting eyes. He looked so much less care-worn and battle-hardened.

Almost all of Neil's body had stretched out across the rough ground; his head resting on a balled-up shirt he must have found in his saddlebag. His mussed, curly hair framed his face and she found herself studying his dry lips and strong, stubbly jaw. Finally she slept on, lulled to sleep by the rhythm of Neil's breathing and the beating of his heart beneath her head.

As the first rays of dawn slowly shone into the cave, Neil opened his eyes. He was about to stretch his aching shoulder blades, when he realised that Christy had become quite intertwined with his right arm. She lay on her back, tendrils of her hair flowing across his long johns in all directions. He longed to run his fingers through each soft and sweet-smelling wave.

Her cheeks were pink and bonny; her rosy scent wafted up to him. The slender fingers of her left hand had drawn his right arm across her body. Her chest rose and fell beneath the heel of his hand, her warm breath caressing his bare wrist.

Neil shifted only slightly to give relief to some of his aching muscles. He did not want to wake her and end this spell of intimacy that he did not deserve. How many nights had he returned to a cold bed after hours of struggle since Margaret's death? Even before he lost his wife, how many times had he slept in cold, crouched pain whilst she punished him for his 'selfish' devotion to the people of the Cove? Neil sighed, and looked back at Christy's fine, pretty features; memorizing their trusting, placid pose rather than his late wife's sneering visage.

How often had he lain awake since Christy had brought such kind warmth to the Cove? How often had he wished that he could take her in his arms? Neil tentatively reached out with his other hand, wishing he could stroke her cheek, but she would surely wake if he touched her skin. He couldn't bear to see shock or dismay marring her beautiful features.

Neil ached with desire to unbutton the brown shirt he had loaned to her. He wanted to run his lips across the nape of her neck and clavicle. Neil ached to hear her sigh in pleasure as he pressed his lips to the small pink petals that parted in such a pretty way as she calmly slept. But he stayed still, yearning for her touch and fearing that if he even leant closer, that she would wake and look at him with utter repulsion.

The sound of voices outside made him gently shake her awake. Christy's eyes darted open and then she smiled shyly and yawned, stretching her arms. "I hope I didn't disturb your sleep too much!" she exclaimed, seeing that he was quite alert.

Neil smiled, "I don't remember when I last slept so well."

Christy was not sure if he was being polite or sarcastic. She did not have time to question him further.

He gestured outside and muttered, "Someone's coming."

Christy stood up, narrowly avoiding a stalagmite and reached for her skirt. Neil stretched and got to his feet, but neither of them had much time to compose themselves. A large search party filled the entrance to the cave.

There was some sniggering and tittering and more than one person muttered the phrase, 'Teacher is always so prettified, but now she ain't barely dressed'. Neil took charge, thanking the O'Teale's, the Coburn's, the McHone's and the Allen's for their 'help.' He stepped forward several times, moving the gawkers down into the holler. Neil shooed the children away so that Teacher could at least put on her stockings and shoes.

Alice and David arrived just as Kyle Coburn was beginning a tirade about Neil's godless ways and Miss Huddleston's 'tainted honor'. Alice grabbed Neil's arm, staying his clenched fist. Christy appeared, glancing from David's jealous scowl to Neil's indignant glare. Meanwhile, Cove parents were hurriedly grabbing up their children, worried by Mr Coburn's dire pronouncements about Miz Christy's morals corrupting them all.

"Nothing happened!" Neil thundered, wishing he could knock Kyle flat. "Miss Huddleston is a fine Christian lady!"

His cries fell on deaf ears as people hurried away, leaving Christy, tears streaming down her face, to be comforted by Miss Alice and David. The former quietly prayed for God's light to be theirs in the darkest of times, the latter furiously glared at Neil.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Church that Sunday was as sombre as a funeral for Christy. She realised, apart from Fairlight, Miss Alice and a few of the older girls, that all of the women seemed to believe that she had lost her virtue while sheltering with Neil in that cave. Even Opal and Swannie seemed to have joined in on the gossiping and finger pointing, although her staunchest critics seemed to be Lety Coburn, Mary Allen and Elizabeth Holcombe.

Christy blew her nose in her damp handkerchief. An entire row would have been left empty on the women's side if it had not been for Ruby Mae and the Spencer girls sitting in it. Miss Ida had reluctantly joined her on their regular front pew; however, she was sure to place her baskets in between herself and Christy. Miss Alice and Fairlight sat close to Christy: steady, strong and both silently praying for their young friend.

There was much muttering on the men's side – some men weren't even regular churchgoers – but they had no doubt attended to hear what the Preacher and Uncle Bogg were going to announce about the school teacher's fate. Christy had spent a lonely day and night at the Mission. Neil had been called away within an hour to the Homer's girl who had developed a fever after her surgery. He had not been forced to endure the arguments that had whirled around Christy like a deafening storm.

Christy glanced up at David who averted his eyes and scanned his notes instead of her pale face. She remembered all of his bitter words after supper the night before about the 'rules of courtship' that had been broken. He had been adamant that he was planning to ask her father for permission to court her. He was convinced that Neil had compromised Christy's virtue by design.

However many times she explained the circumstances: meeting Neil by chance, cooking for him, leaving him as it grew dark and then him coming to her rescue during the storm; David still almost spat with vehemence about Neil trying to force her hand so she would be obliged to unite herself to him.

Christy had grown weary of David's jealous rants and snapped at him in temper. She was not David's property that Neil had attempted to steal away! The doctor had merely helped her when she became trapped in a cave! She had then repeated all this to Fairlight and Miss Alice before, exhausted, she had fallen asleep by the parlour fire.

The windows were foggy with condensation. At last David cleared his throat and announced the first hymn. The congregation stood and Christy found herself going through the motions of singing and uttering prayers.

When it came time for the much-anticipated sermon, they all resumed their seats. David, alone, stood over them. Christy glanced up at him; his face was solemn, his jaw clenched, his mouth set in a thin line. She looked away as he began.

"Brothers and sisters, today I wish to speak to you of those who will inherit the Kingdom of God, and those who will not." David flicked a page in his Bible.

Christy breathed out, relief flooding over her. She had feared that he would use the pulpit to preach against her. Perhaps, he would even defend her when Uncle Bogg announced her 'punishment': would he really want to send her away from the children?

David found his place. "Friends, in the sixth chapter of the First Letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul, said: 'Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived. Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers,' he paused for effect, 'will inherit the kingdom of God.'"

There was a great deal of muttering about how surely not having 'all yer store-bought do-dads on wiv a mountain man shore were a sign of fornication.' Christy felt Miss Alice tensing beside her and worried that a schism in the church would develop over her!

David's deep voice once more broke into her reverie, "Verses 15 to 20 say, 'Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make _them_ members of a harlot?'"

Alice Henderson stood up as if burned. In two strides, she had reached his side and said in a low voice seethed, "Enough! I have heard enough, Reverend! As your superior, I will speak with thee after the service. Please focus on instructing people about the Kingdom of God, instead of insulting Miss Huddleston in this manner!"

"I do believe he was calling me a harlot!" Neil's voice rang out and the crowd turned to gawk at him. "I am after all the 'unbeliever' amongst you."

Christy had not realised that Neil was standing near the back of the packed schoolhouse. Her heart leapt with an unexpected joy just at the idea of his steadying presence; she only hoped that he wouldn't lose his temper.

"Saint Paul was using a metaphor, Doctor," David replied steadily.

"I'm well aware of that," Neil shot back, holding David's gaze and taking a step toward the front of the church. "I believe that the apostle was instructing God's people to not be 'at one' with unbelievers, because a Christian man should not even think of uniting his flesh to that of a harlot."

Alice stood beside David, facing Neil and wondering if she should merely dismiss the meeting.

David did not glance at his notes and met the challenge, "We are also warned to 'flee sexual immorality.'"

Neil took another step toward the preacher. The eyes of nearly everyone in the congregation watched him in silent anticipation of a fight between the two men. "The Christian man's body is a temple of the Holy Spirit."

David chuckled, watching Neil's next step forward, "That's right, MacNeill. I'm surprised at how well you know the good book for someone who refuses to believe that there is a God."

Neil continued his slow pace towards David; his azure eyes burning with intensity as he stared down the other man, "I would be a fool not to believe in God, Grantland. I just don't believe that he is concerned with the likes of me everyday. This is something that other 'believers' know about me, because they have bothered to ask, instead of hiding behind a pulpit."

David ignored the rebuke about his lack of attempts to share the gospel with Neil, continuing the standoff. "Verse 20 of the chapter states, 'For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's.'"

"Do you think God wishes to punish a young lady for cooking a hot meal for a bone-tired widower? Does your God get the glory for the Cove's people refusing to send their children to the Mission School while she is still the teacher, because she dared to seek shelter in a cave, where a man also later sought refuge? It is interesting to see how you're twisting the words to punish Miss Huddleston for sheltering with me, 'Reverend'" Neil spat.

"Miss Huddleston?" David repeated mockingly. Months of jealous anger, over every perceived look of longing between Christy and the doctor, built up in him. "I am speaking of the Kingdom of God!" he stormed.

Christy quickly stood up and placed herself between the two men. Fairlight's panicked look brought Jeb to her side next to Neil. Alice was ready to grab at David's arms if he took a swing at the Doctor.

The throng watched the group who had frozen as if in a tableau. Christy gazed at Neil, willing him not to strike David and add to the scandal that they were embroiled in. Maddeningly, he would not break eye contact with David. She turned, and looked up to see that David's gaze was still locked Neil's furious face.

"'It is good for a man not to _touch_ a woman!' Chapter 7, Verse 1!" David spat.

Neil smirked, "'…but let each man have his own wife, and let each woman have her own husband.'"

David bristled and then spat,** " '**For it is better to marry than to _burn __with passion.'"_

At last, Neil looked at Christy, who had tentatively reached out a hand to hold his arm still. She was so worried that he or David would get hurt in this madness.

A mixture of worry and frustration marred Neil's features as he announced, "I say this before you all. Miss Huddleston is a pure Christian lady."

Christy gasped as several men stood up and began to yell, slapping each other on the shoulders in agreement.

Kyle Coburn shouted, "Look at her clutching him! She shall not teach at this school unless she can** '…**abstain from fornication!' as the Lord above says!"

Ault Allen joined in,** " '**I shall mourn for many who have sinned before and have not repented of the uncleanness, fornication, and lewdness which they have practiced…'"

A loud peal of thunder and three lightning strikes suddenly echoed across the valley. Uncle Bogg saw his chance shouted most of the folk back into their seats. He held up a hand for silence, his face flushed by all the exertion.

"As you know, I spent most of yesterday sitting a spell with y'all to see where people's thoughts be at about this unexpected turn of events," Bogg hooked his thumbs into his suspenders and glanced at Christy and Neil regretfully. "Seems like there's few who will send their young'uns to the Mission School whilst Miz Christy stays…"

There was an outbreak of heart-wrenching applause and caterwauling. Christy could not believe how quick some of the Cove's people were to turn on the Mission School. She buried her face against Neil's vest – thinking more about her need for comfort, than the propriety of her actions. Fairlight rubbed her back, as Neil stood, angry and powerless, listening to some of the rabble-rouser's treating it all as sport.

Uncle Bogg raised his hand in the air once more and slowly the noise died down. The storm outside intensified as he announced, "I asked Doctor MacNeill to attend our meeting this morning. I believe that if the Teacher will accept his suit, then you will all be at peace."

Christy stepped away from Neil so quickly that she almost tripped over the Spencer girls who were trying to hug her legs. She looked up at him in shock. He had come with the intention, not of defending her honour, but to propose a rushed marriage? Neil saw what he wrongly assumed was more horror, rather than shock, playing across her features.

You could have heard a pin drop over the words he grunted over the tight anxiety in his throat. "Miss Huddleston, you know how much I respect you. I would be honoured if you would become my wife." He fished in his pocket and held out the ring box. "Obviously," he added, nervous at her stunned silence, "you deserve to be asked such a question in far better circumstances… by a far better man… I… I hope you know that I would not… presume on you… that I ask you so that you…you can continue your work among the children who all love you very much."

There was another round of applause, but, this time, it was not some mistrustful adults spitefully mocking an outsider. This time, it was Little Burl clapping as he perched on Rob's shoulder, remembering how she had helped the Doc to operate on him. This time - Sam Houston, Lulu, Wraight, Will, Ruby Mae, Lizette, John, Joshua Bean, Zady, Isaak, Orter Ball, Vincent, Thomas, Mary, Creed and all the rest – were clapping their small hands together in gratitude for her love for them. This time, Mountie O'Teale was clapping, remembering how Christy had sewed buttons on her threadbare coat and given her back her voice.

Christy wiped away a tear, smiling at all the heads poking out in the aisle and reached out for the proferred box. She opened it and saw one of Neil's most-treasured family heirlooms: a plain gold band with a Gaelic phrase etched into it: _Le mo ghrasa mise, agus liomsa mo ghra_. People were hushing each other, awaiting her answer to the Doc's question.

"What does it mean?" Christy softly asked him.

For a moment, he hesitated, and then he leant forward and whispered, "It's from the Old Testament. It means 'I am my beloved's and he is mine.'" He stooped closer. "Why don't you say 'Yes' and then we can contact your Father and Mother for advice? An engagement can be broken when all the fuss dies down. In the mean time, you'll still have your Mission."

Christy was surprised at how well he understood her. Despite her impulsivity and naivety at times, she would not marry anyone without her parent's blessing and being with the children was what made each day a joy. She smiled up gratefully at him, glanced at Fairlight and Alice whose faces were both creased with concern, and hesitating, announced, "Yes. I… will …accept your ring, Neil."

To her surprise, there was an almost immediate transformation in the crowd. He had barely awkwardly thrust the ring onto her trembling finger, before people began to shout about the need for a jollification. Mountain men who had acted like she was stained by sin mere minutes ago, now surged forward to congratulate them. Some women gushed about 'purty ribbons' and asked her when she thought the wedding would take place. It seemed like 'all was forgiven', but could Christy forgive the parents of her dear children who had spoken out against her? When would David stop glowering at Neil with such bitterness? What on earth would her parents make of such an engagement?

_A/N: Please review..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The icy puddles that Christy often splashed through on the way back from the chicken coop were like hot springs when compared with Ida Grantland's moods. David's stony silences at table could generally be borne, because they were so short-lived. He did not tease Ruby Mae over her latest attempt at baking, or help Christy with her attempts to rote-learn Shakespearean sonnets.

David would merely answer Miss Alice's questions with forced politeness, wolf down his food and then depart. Christy had seen his sister sitting with him on the verandah of his bunkhouse. As far as Christy could tell, Ida made small talk and David shrugged and brooded.

Much harder to bear than David's simmering anger were Ida's pointed and bitter remarks about Christy's every 'mistake'. As Fairlight often put it, "_Miz Ida can shorely starch collars with her hot-headed tongue!_" Christy had made it clear to the spinster that, far from her upsetting David with all this 'MacNeill madness', she considered Ida's brother to be very much in the wrong for how he had twisted God's Word.

Christy had thought about using the new Mission telephone to ring her Daddy's office in Asheville, but, instead, she had written to her parents about her predicament. Words uttered on the telephone were likely to be overheard and misinterpreted at both ends.

What if her call to her Daddy's firm was overheard by some office gossip? An engagement, however tenuous, was a major event as far as the Huddleston matriarchs were concerned. Her mother, grandmother and aunts would want it handled 'just so', particularly under the circumstances. Christy sighed; she doubted whether her family would approve of Neil, even if Christy professed her undying love for him!

Over the following days, Christy buried herself in her work. She spent a lot of time creating new lesson plans, rearranging books in her classroom, doing chores and talking with the children who seemed to be taking it in turns to '_swap howdies_' long after classes had ended each day. She avoided the Grantland's whenever she could: not wanting to feel crushed by desolate stares or barbed remarks.

As it grew dark that evening, Christy found herself shivering. She knelt in front of the schoolhouse fire and placed another log on to the flames. In frustration, she realised that she would need to go in search of more wood. Christy picked up one of the lanterns and walked quickly into the chilly twilight. She reached the pile of logs, her fingers numb and sore – the cold air seemed to penetrate even through her kid leather gloves!

A twig snapped to her right and, worried, Christy squinted into the gloaming for a moment. Then she smiled - it was probably one of those silly, old hogs! There was no need for her to be so on edge. Christy sighed and carefully carried a few logs back towards the schoolhouse. She could see her breath in the wintry air as she climbed the steps and walked back inside.

Christy felt a sense of pride as she put another log on the stove and stoked the fire. It's warmth made her feel a bit cheerier and she found herself humming as she went back to her work.

A few minutes later, she heard the whinny of a horse and, stood up to stretch, glancing out of the dark windowpanes. Seeing Neil approaching, she opened the schoolhouse door as he clomped up the steps.

"It's a bit late for you to still be at your desk, isn't it?" he barked.

Christy sighed at his gruff tone. She wondered what it would be like to be a romance novel heroine. Surely, after not seeing their 'intended' for almost a week, something other than a complaint would be the first thing their hero uttered to them.

"I… I like my own company," Christy replied.

He had trouble determining what the dull tone of her voice meant. "Do you want me to leave, Miss Huddleston?" he asked politely.

"Oh, no, not at all!" Christy said at once. "I am just avoiding…" she indicated the Mission and its adjoining bunkhouse.

Neil was relieved when he caught her meaning. He had thought of little else but seeing her all day. In fact, he had hoped to return to the Cove the previous day, but a difficult surgery, and then a gun shot injury, in Raven Gap, had required him to stay away longer.

Neil placed his saddlebags down on one end of her cluttered desk and then stood with her by the fire.

"Did you need me to fetch some more wood?"

"I did it myself," she replied, not wanting to trouble him.

"Always so independent, hmm?" Neil said, bemused.

"Speaking of which, you look tired," she mumbled worriedly. "I bet you haven't stopped to worry about eating a meal or catching even a wink of sleep."

Neil was touched by the concern making her cluck her tongue impatiently. Christy glanced at the small clock on her blouse brooch. He was admiring how the blue hue set off her eyes as she bustled about. Neil longed to see if she was wearing his ring – however temporarily – under her brown gloves.

"Miss Ida should have retired by now," Christy observed. "I'll make you some soup."

Neil was about to protest. He did not want Christy to feel obliged to feed him. His intention was not to make more work for her! He had merely wanted to see her, to make sure she was well, to hear Christy laugh - things much more important than food. He relented and was soon showing Charlie in to the Mission barn. Prince snorted dismissively at the sudden intrusion and Neil amused himself thinking about how David would have a similar reaction if the Preacher saw him with Christy.

Neil wiped his muddy boots very carefully before quietly closing the Mission door behind him. The last thing he wanted was for Christy to suffer any criticism on his account. Neil removed his brown jacket and hung it on the hook near the back stairs. The whole place seemed deserted, but he could hear Christy humming in the kitchen.

In the soft light from the lanterns, Christy's lustrous hair glowed. Half of it was piled on her head; the other half fell across her slender shoulders. Her long skirt swished from side to side as she added pumpkin and squash to a pot on the stove. Neil longed to walk right up behind her like he had in his cabin to pass her some spices. He wanted to feel the warmth of her body pushing against his frame. Neil wanted to bend forward and kiss the nape of her neck.

"Smells delightful," he mumbled by way of greeting and Christy turned to smile at him briefly. He let her assume that he was referring to the soup, rather than to her luscious scent.

Not wanting to be caught standing stock-still and staring at her, Neil walked over to the window and gazed up at the looming Coldsprings Mountain ranges. He saw a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye and realised that it was David, his long limbs casting a shadow as he returned from the direction of Matthew Coburn's cabin.

Neil wondered why the Preacher was on foot. Perhaps, he didn't trouble to take Prince when he was calling on one of the Mission's nearest neighbours. Neil hoped that David wasn't returning to the Mission House. He turned back to watch Christy, not wanting to get angry all over again regarding his most recent confrontation with the Reverend.

"Please have a seat," Christy mumbled, a little awkwardly when she saw him standing there, clinically observing her.

Christy wondered what his enigmatic look meant. Perhaps, she looked a fright! She had not slept well all week and, more than once, Miss Ida had remarked on how pale she looked. Self-consciously, Christy ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed out her apron. Neil paused before walking to the long table, watching the progress of her gloved hands and wishing that he too could touch her soft skin.

He chose a chair closest to the kitchen and its larder and quietly slid it away from the wooden table. Neil glanced back into the small kitchen, watching Christy ladling the soup into bowls. She approached him, a smile gracing her tired features.

Neil almost sighed aloud in contentment; Christy was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. It wasn't just the way her pink-petal lips parted as she beamed at him, nor was it merely the way her long lashes fluttered over the deep blue pools of her eyes; it was her joy at serving other people that made him feel warm from the most unruly curl on his head to the holes in his worn socks.

To his surprise, Neil almost fled as she drew near. He did not deserve her kindness – he was ornery and bad-tempered. He didn't deserve happiness and surely he was setting himself up for lonely and painful heartache when her parents ordered her back to Asheville.

"I'll fetch you some cornbread," Christy said softly.

"Please don't go to too much trouble on my account," Neil replied, taking the bowl and looking away.

Christy wondered for the hundredth time whether she would ever figure this man out. She fetched her bowl and the remainder of a loaf Miss Ida had baked earlier. Christy placed them on the table, she was pleasantly surprised when Neil stood and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down gracefully and then he folded his bulky frame into the chair next to her. He was so quiet; Christy wondered if she had said or done something to offend him.

Knowing the custom he held out his hand, Christy took it and bent her head, silently thanking the Lord for His provision. Neil watched her fervently praying, his back straight. Christy opened her eyes and he lightly squeezed her hand before letting go to pick up his spoon. He began to grow puzzled as she passed him the bread plate and then began to eat her soup, all without removing her gloves.

"Blisters?" he pondered aloud.

Christy blushed, "Oh, it's nothing to worry about. You've spent all week tending to much worse than…"

"Chilblains," Neil surmised, thinking about the recount he had heard in Raven Gap about the Mission working the teacher to the bone on chilly mornings.

"I'll be fine," Christy murmured dipping her spoon into the bowl once more. She motioned for him to keep eating.

"Thank you, Christy. It's very nice," Neil said, finishing his bowl and breaking off a chunk of cornbread to sop up the leftovers. "I'll take a look at those hands before I go."

Christy sighed in mock-exasperation and changed the subject. "I've yet to hear from my parents."

Neil nodded, well aware of almost every detail related to Christy's week. Now they were 'sparking', his patients and people he met on his journeys; gave him blow-by-blow accounts. Some of the intelligence came from children who had listened with rapt attention to Ruby Mae's accounts of 'Preacher's moods' and 'Miss Ida's rants'. Others told Neil that Ben Pentland had not yet brought a letter from Asheville.

Christy was gazing at him, her fine eyes luminescent with concern. "Did you want to talk about it? You must have had a hard week."

For a second, Neil wondered if she was being flippant. Surely Ida Grantland on the warpath over her brother's bruised pride was far harder to deal with than surgery or fever-bed medicine! Neil shrugged, buying himself time to think of how to phrase his answer.

"How's Lily Homer?" Christy asked, offering him more bread and a glass of water.

"She turned a corner, thankfully," Neil murmured. "For a day or so, I worried that I might have nicked her bowel during the appendectomy."

Christy flinched, but then tried to cover her discomfort. "Oh, that is a blessing. She just took longer to recover than you had expected, then?"

Neil nodded, finishing the food and sipping the water. "Then I had to…" he paused, trying to make the procedure sound more suitable for dinner table conversation. "I had to tend to Uncle Jason. He'd been shot in the back up near Raven Gap."

Christy eyes widened, "Oh no! Your Uncle!"

Neil shook his head, "No, no; it's his nickname," he assured her at once. "Poor man, he makes his living from selling galax leaves. Often finds himself in a spot of bother at this time of year. Ventures on to some rough highlander's patch, scrounging what he can and someone gets trigger-happy. Of course, most of us try to help him, but he's as stubborn as an old mule about accepting charity."

"Oh, if only there was something I could do to help him," Christy worriedly replied.

"I got the lead out, stitched him up and took him to his kin," Neil replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "Now, let's have a look at these chilblains."

Christy winced, her entire forehead creasing in concern. Just the thought of removing her warm gloves made her feel anxious. Neil shifted, reaching for his saddlebags. He lined up his supplies on the table and then turned his chair to face her. She placed her hand on the table and then she stiffly began to try to loosen the leather around her right hand pinky finger.

Neil frowned, "Perhaps we should go somewhere where you'll feel more comfortable."

For one terrible moment, Christy thought he meant that he wanted to treat her while she lay down in bed. Remembering the dream she had had the night before made the flush in her cheeks spread to her neck; even her ears felt hot.

Neil sensed her discomfort and clarified, "The fire in the parlour had not completely gone out, had it?"

Christy shook her head, unable to speak while she tried to regain her composure. Sometimes, Neil's presence was such a comfort to her. But other times, she felt like it would be a relief for her not to be so very close to him. It was so confusing!

Christy watched him gather his things and then gingerly carried a lantern through to the parlour. The room's oil lamps were running low and the fire was almost down to glowing coals.

"Take a seat," Neil muttered distractedly and then set his supplies down on one of the low tables.

Christy watched him tending to the lamps on the piano, and, despite her attempted protest; he placed logs on the fire in her stead. Christy sat on the long sofa, tucking her soft shoes up under her skirt. As soon as she had returned from the schoolhouse earlier, she had hastily donned her house slippers. She felt mortified at the idea of Neil examining her feet!

Neil sat next to her, careful not to clink any of the small vials together or to speak above a murmur. The last thing he wanted was to bring one of the women upstairs down to disturb their rare time alone. He would treasure every minute he had with Christy before she was undoubtedly summoned back to Asheville.

Christy faced him, her gloved hands sitting in her lap. "I… You look tired, Neil. I shall show Miss Alice my fingers tomorrow."

"I'm here now," he said, trying to sound reassuring rather than frustrated.

Christy relented and put her right hand, palm up, in front of him. Neil moved closer and bent over it, his face hidden beneath a tumble of curls.

He ran his fingers down her right forearm. "Circulation," Neil mumbled by way of explanation. He began to hum as he gently rubbed her right elbow with his deft fingers.

Christy felt the sudden impulse to reach up with her left hand and stroke his curly hair. The slow circles he was tracing around her elbow seemed to make warmth flow beneath the light fabric of her blouse, ripples of it danced across her skin. She breathed in his familiar scent – a mixture of tobacco, lye soap, saddle leather and musk.

Christy hadn't realised how much she had missed him all week. His left knee was almost touching her two skirted ones and she found herself leaning towards him, until her head was almost resting on his shoulder.

Christy could almost feel the rumble in his chest as he hummed a tune she couldn't quite place. They were nearly breathing as one. She felt herself growing calmer with each slow, deep breath. Christy relaxed her shoulders, sure now that she could trust Neil to slowly work the glove from each pained finger.

With relief at the tension leaving her body, Neil gently pulled the very tip of the leather from the top of each finger. He worked slowly, the fingers of one hand massaging her arm in small circles all the while. His other hand pulled the leather a little looser again. Christy bit her lip and, sensing her intake of breath, he stopped for a minute. His steady humming and the rhythm of the massaging circles continued, however, he paused before resuming his attempt to pry the leather off her hands.

"Thank you," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

"You were right to keep them warm," Neil told her quietly, continuing his slow progress of trying to pry her fingers loose "but there's probably not enough 'give' in these fashionable gloves."

Christy glanced up at his face, wondering whether he was mocking her. She realised, however, that he was merely stating a fact. The _Le Bon Marche _lady's gloves were not designed for a Cutter Gap missionary. They were made with a lady who sipped tea and played with a lap dog in mind.

She said as much and Neil nodded, the ends of his curls brushing against her navy shawl. The next time she looked down, she was surprised to see that he had almost totally removed her glove. He had certainly distracted her!

Christy's sore fingers were tender, red-raw swollen patches. She wondered if his eyes lingered on the ring on her finger, or if he was holding her hand up towards the light to inspect the wound. Christy told herself not to be silly: he had merely given her the ring to stop the scandal after all! Christy watched him tug the last of her fingers free from the kid leather. Almost at once, she missed the rhythmic circles he had been drawing on her sleeve.

"Elevation," Neil muttered and then, holding her hand still above her heart, began to dab a cotton wool ball in a bottle of astringent. Christy hissed slightly at the first sharp pain, but soon, the itch lessened and it didn't sting quite as much. Christy watched as he carefully removed his family ring, placing it on the table beside them.

"Compression," Neil explained, reaching for a bandage and expertly winding it around the tips of each of her fingers and down their length, then looping it around her palm and over up to her wrist.

"Your left hand will be easier," Neil murmured.

"Why?" Christy whispered.

"You're right-handed," Neil reminded her. "You 'over-do-it' with that hand more than the other."

Christy smiled, "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

"Perhaps, I'm ambidextrous," Neil replied, smirking. "I can 'over-do-it' with both hands at once."

Christy giggled at the funny face he pulled. "I've been meaning to thank you."

"Whatever for?" Neil asked, beginning the whole process again by massaging her left arm.

"Well, for," she hesitated, "for the ring."

Neil smiled, "You're welcome."

"It's beautiful," Christy whispered, gazing down at it in the soft light.

"Mhmm," Neil agreed. "I'm sure you've seen much finer, though? _Le Bon Marche_ must have some fine gems." He said conversationally.

Christy was surprised and a little insulted. She hoped that he didn't think she was that shallow. "It's much more precious than something that can be bought at a department store!"

Neil raised his eyebrows as he pried her last finger free from the left glove, "I'm glad you think so, Christy."

"This has been passed down from generation to generation," Christy continued, barely wincing when he applied the astringent lotion. "It's priceless!"

"Aye," Neil agreed, realizing that her left hand did not require more than a plaster or two. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a pair of navy wool gloves. Neil helped her to pull the gloves on over the dressings. "This ring came all the way from Scotland on the finger of one of my great-great grandmothers."

She looked up at him with such intensity that he found himself an inch from kissing her. The clock chimed and Neil straightened up, worried that he had let his feelings get away from him.

Christy watched him putting the cotton swabs he had used on the fire. She reached out for the ring, wanting to show him that it meant so much to her that he would loan it to her during this difficult time. It wouldn't fit around any of her gloved fingers. She glanced up to see Neil watching her.

"Allow me?" he asked quietly.

Christy nodded and he reached out and unclasped the silver chain around her neck. Neil threaded the ring around the necklace until it clinked with her silver cross. Neil then put the necklace around her neck, securing the clasp once more.

"I should go," he said regretfully.

Christy nodded, accepted his thanks once more for the meal, and then watched him disappear into the night. She wished he had been within twenty-five miles the next day, when her family suddenly rattled over the washboard of a trail and approached the Mission.

_A/N: Please hit that review button..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Neil was bone-tired and struggling through the stinging cold air was making him feel miserable. Having barely slept a wink for days, he urged Charlie toward El Pano, rather than trying to make it back to Cutter Gap.

After a feud had broken out among Tumbling Creek neighbours, Neil had spent one night suturing Old Zeb's cut belly. An act of revenge had then yielded his next patient. Neil had spent many hours trying to save the eyesight of Zeb's nemesis, Bill MacLean. Given Neil's passion for curing trachoma, the very thought that someone would gouge out healthy eyes made him shake with rage.

Neil tipped his hat to Farse as he passed El Pano Station. He dismounted, tying Charlie's reins at the hitching post. Neil walked up the steps of the large Victorian frame house to see if Mrs Tatum had a room spare for the night. She opened the door almost as soon as he had knocked.

"Aha! Here he is! Yer name is on every critter's lips, Doc."

Neil eyed the big-boned woman warily, "I'm just after a meal and a bed, Martha." He hoped that he had implied that he was not after a gossipy game of cat-and-mouse about his engagement.

"Why! Certainly, Doc. Bring them saddlebags in. I'll fetch Thomas to tend to yer horse…"

Neil had barely placed his bag beside the kitchen table, and warmed his hands by the fire, when a holler of 'Uuniitted States Maiilll!' echoed through the house.

Mr Pentland stomped into the room, taking off his hat as Mrs Tatum bustled back in.

"Old Farse said ye'd be here, Doc MacNeill. Got a few packages for you!"

"Thank you, Ben," Neil said, reaching for them. He sat quietly at the table, paying little attention to Mr Pentland. Neil even feigned great interest in the first letter, which was merely routine correspondence from St Timothy's Eye Hospital in Baltimore.

The mailman either didn't take the hint or refused to. "So, Doc." He gave a low whistle. "That Miz Christy, she shore is feisty, like most wimmen folk I know!"

Mrs Tatum bustled around the warm kitchen, her mouth moving almost as much as her hands. "Aye, I met your young lady's folks, Doc!" she exclaimed. "They come through day before yest'd'y…"

Neil feigned indifference, but his mind was racing. His first thought was that he had missed his chance to farewell Christy. Whatever her devotion to the children of the Cove, her well-to-do parents must have quickly escorted her back to her home in Asheville.

"Truth to tell, you don't know the latest, Martha!" Ben Pentland said dismissively, spitting a stream of brown tobacco onto the fire. "After the sun-ball went up this mornin', I seen Miz Christy introducin' her kin to Jeb and Fairlight and their young 'uns. Kin you imagine how proud Teacher was? Anyone'd thought she'd been born in that thar Cove."

Neil opened the first box, pulling off the string and brown paper. His apparent nonchalance made Ben and Martha exchange puzzled looks while Ben put the trash on the fire. Mr Pentland watched the string curl as the orange flames consumed it.

Neil barely registered that the package was a new syringe kit he had ordered from Knoxville. In his mind's eye, he could see Fairlight's shy smile, Jeb's protective arm around her shoulder, as they met Christy's parents. It delighted him that she loved people he had known since childhood. Even though it surprised the highlanders, she would have introduced all of the children by name, caring about each, he guessed as unique creations of God's.

"Her mother's travelling suit was so fine and she was as sweet as molasses," Martha Tatum told them.

"You ain't barely talked to her!" Ben objected, feeling like he was the one who could always be relied upon to carry news all over the mountains.

"They stopped here for lunch!" Mrs Tatum shot back. "They said that Miz Christy had mentioned her first night here in her letters home!"

"She no doubt told em that I showed her all the way to the Mission!" Ben complained. "And when I seen 'em this mornin' Miz Christy was talkin' a mile a minute, tellin' her folks how there was so much she could do to help all the Lord's young'uns in the Cove."

"I'm sure Christy has told them how fond she is of both of you," Neil supplied, hoping to placate them; he needed time to think.

Neil barely heard the rest of their banter. He appeared to be looking at the two letters about medical supplies that had arrived. In reality, he was picturing Christy's flushed face and parted lips as she had waved to him a few nights ago. With relief, he realised that Mr and Mrs Huddleston had not taken her on the first train back to Asheville. A small flame was rekindled deep within his chest; he felt a tiny spark of hope that they may, perhaps, be willing to let her stay in Cutter Gap. The idea that this would involve her being his wife would, no doubt, be preposterous to them. Still, he would rather have the chance to sit a spell with her after a tough operation, than never to see her at all.

Neil looked at the postmark and return address on the other small parcel. He realised that it was something he had ordered on a whim for Christy. He put it to one side without opening it, hoping to catch her before classes the next day so he could give it to her in person. Imagining her soft smile helped him to bear with Mrs Tatum and Mr Pentland's bickering throughout his supper of stew and biscuits. Every time he tried to change the subject, asking after Mandie Lou or Joshu-way, the others would try to get him to discuss his 'courtship' of the young, pretty 'gal-woman' teaching at the Mission. They latched onto every crumb he flicked their way, telling him about the Preacher trying to become her 'rich Daddy's favourite' when he mentioned that Christy was certainly devoted to her faith.

When Neil agreed that the children loved her, and this led to a long discussion about her bearing his children, Neil was unable to bear the confines of the warm kitchen any longer! Every mountain man he had ever known would not freely discuss such deep matters of the heart!

Neil yawned loudly and stretched, reaching for his saddlebags and mail. "You'll have to excuse me, Martha."

Mr Pentland sighed, disappointed, "I guess yer plumb worn-out, Doc."

Mrs Tatum clucked her tongue and flapped her arms like a broody hen, "I got Thomas to light the lamps. You can have the front room. You place them clothes out the door and Mandie Lou and I will have em washed and pressed by mornin'! You want to look nice when you see your fiancy!"

"Thank you," Neil mumbled, nodding to Ben, as he left.

Neil wearily trudged up the dimly lit stairs. The lamp was already lit on the marble top dresser. The bedroom was cold, but he saw the benefit in trying to clean himself up somewhat before heading to the Gap. As he disrobed, Neil glanced out at the silvery moon, thinking about Christy, and wondering if she was gazing out at its brilliance as well.

Neil was relieved that he had a spare pair of long johns in his saddlebags. He would wear them tomorrow after having a quick wash at the stand. It also saved him having to peel off the ones he was wearing. With the cold air seeping around the edges of the loose-hung window, Neil needed all the warmth he could get. He placed his clothes and boots outside the door and then closed it once more. Almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and he had wrapped the quilt around his large frame, Neil fell into a deep sleep.

Christy awoke early on Wednesday morning. She wanted to be over at the schoolroom before anyone else was up. Christy loved having her parents in the Cove, but David's sudden change from 'brooding' to 'courting' was making her uneasy. He didn't seem to understand that she wasn't merely wishing to be married; she was hoping to be accepted by the Cove's people so that her work among the children could continue. The Cove's people wanted her to marry Neil because she had been 'found' with him after a night alone.

Christy found herself worrying about Neil, usually people brought some news of him each day, generally this was because he was involved in patching up someone involved in a remarkable event. All the focus this week, however, seemed to be on her parents. Ruby Mae had taken to following her mother around the Mission House, staring and often gob-smacked by Mrs Huddleston's 'fine city ways.' David, meanwhile, was constantly trying to get her father's ear. He was always telling him about some plan he had to improve things, for Christy's sake, of course!

Avoiding David at breakfast proved easier than she had hoped. Miss Ida had put some extra cornbread and a flask in a basket beside her satchel. Christy had the feeling that Miss Ida felt a little guilty for letting the young teacher do so many extra chores – to the point where she had chilblains! Also, if Christy were out of the house, Ida would have a chance to try to talk some sense into her brother. The last thing Ida wanted was for him to marry someone who wished to stay in the Cove. Despite not wanting to be back under her mother's stern glare, Ida would prefer to be in Boston or another city, keeping house for David while he worked amongst 'civilised' people.

That morning, Christy didn't worry about anyone's motivations, beyond her own. She grabbed the basket and satchel and scooted out the door. Christy slowed her steps slightly as she passed David's bunkhouse, hoping he was not looking out the window. She quietly opened and then closed the schoolhouse door.

Feeling relieved, despite the chilly air in the building, Christy set to work on building the fire. She then sat beside the stove, focusing on keeping her hands and feet warm whilst she munched on a chunk of cornbread. She was delighted to find that Miss Ida had smeared Jeb's sourwood honey between the slices. Christy sipped from the water flask and then pulled her little spindle chair away a little from the fire. She sat on the wrong side of her desk, her brown cloak pulled around her shoulders.

Christy did not hear Charlie's whinny or even feet stomping up the steps. She was so engrossed in grading papers. Julia Huddleston, meanwhile, had been approaching the schoolhouse when she saw a tall man tying his horse's reins to the hitching post. She stepped back behind an oak tree, wanting to observe whom she could only assume was Neil MacNeill interacting 'unobserved' with her headstrong daughter.

Julia remembered seeing a sketch of the man in Christy's book, but he was far easier on the eye than she had expected. Christy had drawn his face etched by lines of worry, but now he looked almost, well, hopeful. Neil was a big, ruggedly handsome man. His tousled, sun-streaked hair needed taming; something she was sure would appeal to her daughter's sensibilities. His clothes, though patched in places, were much cleaner than most of the mountain men's she had seen. Julia watched him wiping his boots before he entered the schoolroom. She guessed that he had assumed Christy was there because of the dark smoke curling into the overcast sky.

As the door opened behind her, Christy's heart missed a beat. She couldn't bear to tell David, yet again, that she saw him as a good friend and that she was not a prize to be 'won' in his tug-of-war with the Doctor. Seeing Neil approaching her, Christy's whole face lit up. The morning light danced in his eyes as he approached her. Julia peered through the window and saw the doctor kneeling beside her daughter, her hand in his. She slipped into the room, sure that they would glance up. They were too intent on their own conversation, however, and Julia sat at one of the desks in the back row. From her vantage point in the dark corner, she could see the doctor slowly removing one of Christy's gloves.

"Really, it's fine," Christy was protesting.

"I'll be the judge of that, lass," Neil replied.

Julia was startled by how truly deep his Scottish brogue was. Even though Christy had described it, the cadence of his voice struck her as remarkable. She watched him removing the dressings that Alice Henderson had fixed the previous evening. Everything about the man seemed remarkable, to think that someone from these isolated mountains had trained as a doctor; much less refused city offers to serve the impoverished people here; was unheard of. Julia could see why such self-sacrifice was so appealing to her romantically minded daughter.

Neil pushed the used bandages to one side. He reached away from her, shook a vial and then poured some onto her fingers. Christy's sudden intake of breath at the slight sting brought his eyes to her face. He hummed reassuringly as he slowly re-bandaged her hand and placed the navy glove carefully back the lot.

"The other one's fine," Christy told him.

He stubbornly held out his palm, still humming, until she placed her left hand between his own. Christy moved her elbow, letting the glove come off in a flourish. Neil studied the skin briefly and then handed her the glove.

"You're quiet," Christy mumbled. "Are you hungry? Tired?"

Neil shook his head, "I have a lot on my mind." Truth be told, the look of joy on her face at seeing him had baffled him.

Neil reached out to put a log on the fire. He tossed the old dressings in there and then closed the woodstove's door.

"You lost a patient?" Christy wondered aloud, studying Neil, as he did not meet her gaze. She found it quite frustrating when he was inscrutable like this.

"Nope," Neil sighed. "I don't know how many times I need to tell you that mountain men don't talk like a bull at a gate, Miss Huddleston. Can't we please sit a spell without me having to tell you all about wounds I've spent hour after hour tending to?"

Christy slowly nodded, wishing there was some way she could ease the tension in his shoulders. "We'll talk about something else then. I take it that you've heard that my parents are visiting."

"I have, but that's not why I'm here," Neil replied, reaching in to his pocket for his pipe. "I spent the night at Martha Tatum's. Ben Pentland described you introducing your folks to the Spencer's in quite some detail! Besides, I had to check in on my patient."

Christy returned his smile and then described her parent's visits with various families, not sure what Neil's enigmatic smile meant. He fondly watched as Christy twisted his family ring back and forth on the necklace around her neck. Julia watched the doctor lighting his pipe. He had not once; despite thinking they were quite alone, taken a liberty with her daughter. He sat at a companionable distance and he did not bluster away – quoting poetry or trying to woo her as David Grantland did. Christy then recounted David taking her father on a hike. Julia was surprised that Neil did not criticize this rival for her affections; as the young minister would have done if the roles were reversed, Neil merely enjoyed her stories.

After a comfortable silence fell, Neil cleared his throat. "A while ago, I ordered a present for your birthday. I'd been meaning to ask Alice when it was."

"Oh! You shouldn't waste money one me!" Christy exclaimed at once, almost knocking some of her student's slates to the floor. "There are so many people here that need your help!"

Neil hushed her and held out a small box wrapped in brown paper and twine.

"It's not my birthday until December," Christy told him, unsure what the gift meant.

She wondered whether she should accept it, given her parent's objection to marrying a mountain man.

"Perhaps it will be a farewell gift," Neil remarked.

Once again, she felt that his light blue eyes could see inside her like an X-ray; could read her mind. She was always so confused about how she felt about him, and so unsure, other than him being a strong comforter, what he thought about her.

Neil used a pocketknife to cut the string and Christy fumbled with the brown paper, removing it to reveal a colourful pastels set in a small wooden case. She gasped and a brilliant smile graced her pretty face.

"How did you know?" she whispered, delighted.

Christy had been wondering if she could justify spending her meager wages on a set, when so many of the Cove's children needed socks darned and the little 'rewards' that she would give them when they were about to drop from hunger.

"You mentioned wanting to add colour to some of your sketches and, perhaps, sell some paintings to raise funds for the children. It was a while back, before Doctor Ferrand's visit. I'd be honoured if you would send me a drawing. Perhaps you've got one of Big Spoon Creek…" his voice trailed off as he watched her pure pleasure as she studied each vibrant colour. The radiant glow he felt at seeing her joy, was well worth the antique vase he had traded with Elias Tuttle at the El Pano General Store, in order to buy them!

Julia was surprised that the Doctor was not exhorting her to disobey her parents or insisting that she stay in the Cove. Her happiness over his present would have been a fortune-hunting young man's cue to steal a kiss. It seemed that her husband was right. William had warned her that they had to look at the situation from all sides before rushing to judgment. Julia decided that it was time to meet this Doctor MacNeill for herself. Would he act differently when confronted by a lady of her standing? Would he falter beneath her husband's scrutiny? Was he merely playing some part until her daughter was trapped in his no doubt dingy cabin? She decided to make her presence known at once!

Julia slipped back over to the door and then shut it more forcefully, calling out, "Christy? Aren't you coming for breakfast?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Mother!" Christy exclaimed. She was shocked to be interrupted in what her mother would, no doubt, consider to be a situation requiring a chaperone. She had endured two lectures already this week; one had saved her from one of David's prolonged fireside speeches. The other, however, still made Christy cringe. Her mother had asked outright whether Christy had ever considered that either man might have sex on his mind when he was alone with her! Of course, her mother never said the full word, instead she squeaked 'sect' in a mortified whisper each time!

"You must be Doctor MacNeill," Julia beamed, reaching his side and introducing herself in the stunned silence. "I can't thank you enough for helping our stubborn daughter when she became trapped in that horrid storm! I understand that the 'scandal' you find yourself in must be quite troublesome!"

Neil shook her proffered hand and smiled at Christy's consternation, "Mrs Huddleston, it was an honor to help her. I hope that you and your husband won't spirit her away, before you've had a chance to enjoy a meal at my home."

"We shall certainly accept such a kind offer!" Julia exclaimed, her Southern drawl seeming even more pronounced than usual. "You must have been out and about so very early, Doctor, will you join us at the Mission for breakfast? Oh, of course you will!"

Christy's protests were in vain. Her mother insisted that there was still plenty of time to have breakfast before school, adding that Christy couldn't demand that they wait for the Doctor's return and then not see to it that he ate a good meal with them! Christy blushed crimson and followed her mother back towards the house. Neil excused himself while he led Charlie into the barn.

When Neil returned to the house, Christy was standing by the kitchen fire, her arms crossed over her chest. She was pouting in a most petulant fashion. He almost chuckled, but managed to restrain himself, while Julia introduced him to her husband.

"Doctor MacNeill!" William greeted him warmly, "I don't know what my little Girlie would have done if you hadn't helped her in that cave!"

"Daddy!" Christy exclaimed, mortified that he would describe her as such in front Neil. She clammed up as Miss Ida entered. Christy was soon helping to set the table.

Neil studied the older couple as they took seats opposite him at the table. Christy's parents both had dark brown hair, but it was William from whom she had inherited her striking blue eyes. William Huddleston was also slightly shorter and seemed more open. Neil liked him at once. Julia was a little bit harder to figure out. She certainly asked a lot of questions! Neil tried to answer in as few words, and with the best manners, he could muster.

Alice Henderson carried in a plate of biscuit bread with a small pitcher of apple butter.

"Oh, Neil, it is good to see thee," the Quaker greeted him.

"How have you been, Alice?" Neil was relieved to be asking someone questions, rather than to be the subject of Julia's interrogation. Neil wondered what was going on behind Alice's soulful brown eyes.

"I have been quite well, thank thee," Alice replied, before turning back to carry the next dishes in.

"Tea, Doctor MacNeill?" David's sister asked by way of greeting as she re-entered the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you, Miss Grantland," Neil mumbled, wondering where David was.

Normally the young minister would sit, pointedly and possessively, as close to Christy as possible whenever Neil visited.

Alice seemed to be studying him as they ate. For once, Neil was relieved for Ruby Mae's chattering.

"Mr Farse and Mr Tuttle always say that Mrs Tatum can talk the hind legs off a donkey, Doc!" she exclaimed, scooting her chair a little closer to the table so she could see Teacher out of the corner of her eye. Christy sat quietly beside Neil moving oats around her plate.

"I'm glad I survived," Neil smirked at the young redhead and William chuckled.

"Any news from other El Pano way?" Ruby Mae asked conversationally.

"I'm afraid not," Neil mumbled, hoping that it wasn't too obvious that the main news was the Huddleston's visit to see their daughter.

"Mr Pentland said that Old Zeb got…"

"He's on the mend," Neil cut in. He didn't want whatever dreadful stories about feuding that the Huddleston's had heard to be given too much weight.

"Folks up that way must be might beholden' to you, Doc," Ruby Mae ventured. "You'll probably get enough gourds to last the Winter!"

Neil was a bit stunned. He wondered why Ruby Mae was discussing his patient's methods of paying him. Neil saw her look pointedly from Christy to the Huddleston's and back to himself. Was the girl trying to put a case forward that he could provide for a wife?

"Miss Grantland, thank you, this is delicious," Neil broke the awkward silence, helping himself to another serve of Ida's hominy grits.

"Thank you," she said stiffly, glancing out the window.

"Is David quite well?" Neil asked. "It's not like him to be late…"

"He's in Lyleton," Alice said simply.

"Oh," Neil replied.

"It's very kind of you to be a'worried for the Preacher, after what he called you in Church!" Ruby Mae exclaimed.

Neil merely shrugged and then trained his eyes on his plate, hoping that Ruby Mae would stop trying to give him a 'character'! Anyone would think he was paying her for her endorsement of his suit!

"It's good thee has come, Neil," Alice said briskly, as they began clearing the table. "The Huddleston's have much to discuss with thee. I shall see to the children's lessons for the day."

"I can teach," Christy began to argue.

"Can't Doc come to school?" Ruby Mae cut in, looking pointedly at the Huddleston's. "All the young'uns love the Doc," she gave them a winning smile.

Miss Alice had her 'Opposition will be futile' mask on. "Ruby Mae, get thy things. You shall be my assistant for the day."

"It may be wise," Alice said, as soon as Ida had walked out to the larder and Ruby Mae had skipped up the stairs, "to go to thy home, Neil. There will be more privacy there."

"Thank you, Alice." Neil said, grateful that she had given him this opportunity, instead of rushing Christy's parents home with her at once.

Alice fished something out of her skirt pocket and handed it to Christy. With surprise, Neil realised that it was a small red leaf, almost heart shaped. He had no idea what this meant, but Christy smiled gratefully at her mentor.

"I'll be back in five minutes," Neil ventured, "if you would be rugged up and ready."

Christy thought that Neil had been merely ensuring that she wore a thicker coat whilst he fetched Charlie. He returned with Jeb's wagon.

Charlie was somewhat unevenly yoked with the Mission's mule, Old Theo. Neil passed William the reins, jovially remarking that it wasn't quite like driving a Ford automobile. Neil handed Julia up on to the bench beside her husband. He then helped Christy to take a seat beside her mother. Neil himself hopped up next to William. It was a little bit of a squeeze for all four of them to fit, and Neil could not see Christy over the plumes of the brightly colored hat her mother had donned.

They took a scenic way of getting to his ancestral home, as Neil explained to the Huddleston's. Along the way, several children ran up, cheering them on as they passed. The thought that Miss Christy would marry the Doc was certainly a popular notion! The children wanted her to stay in the Cove and not marry some level land beau.

Neil kept up a steady commentary, answering William's questions about his family's heritage. They were soon discussing Scottish history from the Battle of Culloden to the search for a safe place in the New World. They forded the river and Christy looked down at the swirling waters. She was relieved at her mother's rapt attention as they rattled along.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

At his suggestion, Christy took her parents down to admire the river views. Meanwhile, Neil tended to his horse and the mule in the barn. He then rushed up the steps, wondering what state his cabin would be in. He sometimes worried that it looked more like a bear's cave than a doctor's residence! To his surprise, there were no fishing britches or old shirts drying over the arms of the chairs or dirty pots and pans piled up on the hearth.

Neil was surprised to find not only a roaring fire in the grate, but a table set for four with his grandmother's best linen, clean china and polished cutlery. The delightful smell of roasting chicken and honeyed winter vegetables met his nose. He walked in to the tidied up kitchen and breathed in the delicious scent of what was undoubtedly one of Fairlight's fruit cobblers.

The Spencer children and their Mama must have spent hours cleaning and baking there; he would have to find some way to repay their kindnesses! Neil was just about to go in search of the woman he loved and her parents when he heard his guests on the porch.

Christy remembered how flustered Neil had been about the 'housekeeping' he had rushed about seeing to, when she had come to his cabin after meeting Aunt Hattie. She was just thinking of another distraction when Neil opened the door widely and invited them all in.

Julia Huddleston, aware that her daughter had deep feelings for this rugged man, even though Christy may not have yet realised it, was ready for a larger version of the dirty and dingy cabins that they had passed on their journey. To her astonishment and delight, she was soon able to comment on the rustic charm and lovely heirlooms of their families' shared Scottish heritage.

William Huddleston had been relieved that this Doctor his Girlie had found herself betrothed to, was well-travelled and educated. To his businessman mind, it looked like some of Neil's research could be published for profit. Surely, his surgical tool innovations could also be patented and sold. Such additional income, invested well, would surely supplement the barter system of goods for medical services which Neil had established for the good of the Cove's people.

William was glad that Neil was clearly devoted to meeting the needs of his patients in Cutter Gap. This like-minded attitude to serving others matched his daughter's growing dedication to the locals. William was very worried that he could not, having heard more of the violence of the place, leave Christy in the Cove unless she was married. The practical, honest, respected and strong Doctor would be the right kind of man to protect her in this mission field.

With all this in mind, William had counselled Julia to make her examine the whole situation, rather than letting her make the decision based on false assumptions. To his relief, his wife seemed much impressed with the warm and inviting home. Some of the anatomical diagrams in the laboratory had not been to her taste, but she had merely asked a question about another device at that point. After the tour of the laboratory, Neil insisted on them all taking a seat while he served up an early lunch.

Despite the sumptuous meal, Julia Huddleston still worried that her daughter would lack the finer things in life. What was a trout with this man, when she could host high teas for the prestigious clients of her father in Asheville? There were so many fine beaus in their social set in Asheville. Wouldn't they be more 'right' for her?

Julia watched Christy's slight blush as the doctor's fingers grazed hers when he passed her the dessert bowl. It was obvious that Christy would not look twice at Mrs Macalister's Justin, or Mrs Tolliver's Jonathan! This place with all its need for God had changed her; this man had gotten under her skin – even if she was too naïve to fully realise it!

His doubts about God kept surfacing as the main problem that her parents had in permitting their cherished daughter's hand. Her mother knew that Christy had been prayed about it and reading her Bible. She worried about marrying a man who was unsure of God's love. He believed in God, but he did not bend his knee to the Lord. The previous night, Christy had sat up with Julia reading over verses with Miss Alice. Christy had been perplexed, showing them a verse from Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians: "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness?"

To the ladies' surprise, it had been Alice Henderson who had defended Neil, based on the circumstances. In the eyes of the Cove's people, her 'night in the cave' with the doctor made him practically his wife. Also, he had been quick to defend and stand by Christy, even to the point of quoting the Scriptures in Church! This was, Alice believed, a strong sign that God was softening the doctor's stubborn heart. Miss Alice had then taken Christy's Bible, saying that although the predicament she found herself in was not ideal, God could use it for His purposes.

Christy's mentor had then flipped to the third chapter of the First Epistle of Peter:  
"Wives, in the same way submit yourselves to your own husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behaviour of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewellery or fine clothes.Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."

To Miss Alice and her Mama's amusement, Christy had re-read the passage several times, worrying that she would never have a 'reverent' life or a 'gentle and quiet spirit'! They had reassured her that the Lord would keep helping her to grow in her faith and godliness. Christy had taken the verses to heart and had been writing them into her scrapbook when the ladies' bid her 'goodnight' the previous evening.

William had just been broaching the subject of the need for a wedding when Uncle Bogg knocked on the door.

After a quick introduction as the 'County Squire' Uncle Bogg was soon delivering his announcement. "I got it after all, Doc!" he said proudly, one hand hooked into his belt, the other holding a document aloft in triumph.

"What did you get, man?" Neil asked in surprise.

"Why, the marriage bond from Lyleton, of course!" Uncle Bogg crowed. "All we's need to do now is plan the jollification and you'll soon be married to the Teacher!"

"How on earth did you afford it?" Neil asked, worrying as soon as he had said it, that the mountain man would pronounce that someone's still money had been used to purchase the court document.

"Well, Ben brought over a wagon from Old Farse and we loaded it up with whatever people could spare… honey, quilts, pies, corn… whatever… and we took it all over to Mr Tuttle's General Store and he gave us thirty three dollars for it! The bond were forty, but I made up the difference by selling him one of my hounds."

"Oh, Mr McHone!" Christy exclaimed, rushing over to kiss his flushed cheek. "The people have so little and yet have done so much!"

"Well, they want to keep you and the Doc in the Gap, Miss Christy," Uncle Bogg explained.

"And they shall," William announced jovially. "My wife would very much like to host a wedding reception in Asheville. Christy is her only daughter after all. However, we can arrange a date for that in the Spring. In the meantime, I think we have a mountain wedding to prepare."

Neil could barely believe his ears. To his surprise, Christy kissed his cheek in front of her parents. His heart was a little bruised, however, when she whispered, "Thank you so much for going along with all of this, Neil. I so dearly want to stay and teach the children! What would I do without your friendship?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

That night Neil played the scenes of the day over and over again in his mind. He tried to figure out what he had said and done to make Christy think that _all_ he ever hoped for was _friendship_. He touched his cheek, remembering the polite kiss she had bestowed upon him at lunch time.

Her words twisted and turned in his troubled mind: _"Thank you so much for going along with all of this, Neil. I so dearly want to stay and teach the children! What would I do without your friendship?"_ Did she really see him as just a trusted ally in her plans to stay on the mission field? Did she not yearn for his tender touch as much as he, foolishly it seemed, wanted hers?

"Blasted fool!" he cursed himself. He got up to splash cold water on his bleary eyes at the washstand.

He had tried to tell himself that he should just be glad that she was staying in the Cove, but the idea that she did not truly want to be his wife – in both body and soul – galled him. He remembered how he had told her during the proposal that she deserved a better man. He had clearly not made his feelings known to her.

Neil had even told her that he would not push his affections on her, hinting that he would not presume and insist that he could make love to her, even if they married. He had, after all, emphasised that it was the children who needed and loved her very much in his proposal! Was he entirely at fault, then? If only he had not been so angry at David's sermon; if only he had thought through the consequences of his tentative and platonic sounding proposal!

Of course, he had not expected her parents to let her marry some backwoods man! But still, he had been too cautious and had not shown her the passion he felt for her. He had even been hesitant to tell her what the Gaelic phrase on his family's treasured engagement ring meant: _'Le moghrasamise, aqusliomsamoghra'_.

"I am my beloved's and he is mine," Neil grunted aloud, pulling on his boots.

He wanted Christy to feel like that about him. He wanted her to writhe with pleasure when he softly kissed each inch of her lithe body. He wanted her to want to be his. Thinking of the ring, he remembered her thanking him for it. She had been quite impressed by it after all, valuing it more than some bauble that one could buy at a fancy city store.

Perhaps, in time, she would wear it not just because it had such a romantic story, but because it was a link between them. She would not think of it as being special just because it had come all the way from Scotland on the finger of one of his great grandmothers, but because she valued him as her husband.

What should he do? Should he confess his passionate need for her love? Or should he be patient and hope that she would come to love him over time? If he was too demanding of his need for sensual pleasure in her arms, she may flee? After all, the preacher's insistence on trying to 'kiss sense' into Christy that had led to her much preferring Neil's presence in the first place.

She had twice complained in the previous week that she did not want to be left alone with David because his entreaties that he would make the 'better husband' were wearing her out. Christy obviously just wanted to stay in the Cove, rather than marry the Preacher and be obliged to move to a big city church.

Neil wished that she would publicly declare that she preffered him to any other man in the Cove; in the world for that matter! This made him chuckle a little; his sense of unworthiness was an itch that he often scratched.

No, he would just have to bide his time – and try to be the kind of man that she could love. He would need to be patient – not pushing her against the nearest haystack for a moonlight kiss or demanding her attention at every turn.

Neil, even after they were married would have to hope that one day she would truly be his – body and soul. He whistled to himself – it would be all the more worth it when he did make love to her.

Christy, meanwhile, was thanking Miss Alice for being willing to perform the wedding ceremony on the following Sunday. George had been called in Asheville and he was happily gathering up a list of supplies that their Mother deemed 'necessary' for the big day.

Christy was beginning to get excited – how much more could God bless the people of the Cove if she teamed up with Neil? She had been a bit surprised by his vague responses and stand-offish behaviour that afternoon. She hoped that he wasn't getting cold feet. She knew that it wasn't an ideal situation, but she hoped in time that they would be happy together. It would be such a blessing if Neil would begin to understand more of God's deep love for all people, including himself.

The wedding night might be a bit awkward, but she knew that she could trust her dear friend to not make it too painful. Her mother, embarrassingly, had already given her a 'little talk' about 'lying still' and letting the Doctor begin to 'awaken the fire' within her!

'Sect' was given by the Lord to help bond couples together, after all. Christy had blushed scarlet and insisted that she knew enough about the 'birds and the bees' by 19. Her mother had sentimentally brushed out her hair, talking about all of her plans for Sunday's wedding.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Neil waited several long minutes before climbing the stairs to his bedroom. He wanted to give Christy time to make herself comfortable. Neil had taken the unprecedented step of barring the front door of his cabin. Despite Uncle Bogg's assurances, he still feared wedding night tomfoolery from his neighbours.

When he saw his bride, his heart leapt into his throat. This meant that his compliment, "You're as pretty as a picture," came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you," Christy blushed as she nervously glanced up at his reflection in the looking glass. Neil had positioned his mother's antique dressing table between a window and the hearth and he was pleased that she looked so at home there already.

Christy's shoulders stiffened as he approached her chair. Neil noticed her pull her rosy shawl more tightly around her wedding night finery. Unable to turn away without at least attempting to touch her, he let his hands rest on the back of the chair. Neil smiled at her reflection as she continued combing out her long hair.

Christy kept her eyes on the silver-handled brush as he bent forward. He gently reached for it and she could feel his warm breath on her neck as he took hold of it. Neil smiled, admiring the way the firelight made her hair glow as he brushed each luxurious wave. He leant forward again, the stubble on his chin brushing against her ear. Electricity seemed to pulse between them and the joy in Neil's eyes as he brushed a kiss across her cheek made her feel giddy.

Neil placed the brush down and began to run his fingers through her hair instead. He hummed a mountain ballad to himself; one from the wedding festivities that she couldn't quite place. Christy dared not attempt to speak over the lump in her throat. She merely smiled anxiously up at him as he wound a tendril of her hair around his fingers. He let go and began to massage her shoulders. Christy closed her eyes, feeling some of the tense knots beginning to melt beneath his expert fingers. She inclined her head to one side, smiling as his fingers followed the slight movement. There were times when he seemed more in tune with her body than she did. She remembered how he had masterfully led her through dance after dance and the joy in the children's faces at seeing Teacher so at home in Doc's arms.

Christy felt the warmth of his breath before his yearning kisses trailed down her slender neck. She felt sensations deep within her that she had never experienced before. His touch seemed to be kindling a fire in the depths of her being. Neil's fingers trailed down her side, running along the edge of the shawl and beyond to the soft fabric of her lacy bodice. Christy's eyes jerked open, and trying to hide her embarrassment, she inclined her head the other way, pointing at a spot that was sore. The patient, amiable smile never left Neil's face. He kneaded the muscles beneath her soft skin in small, slow circles, relieved when she once more closed her eyes. Neil rained soft, yet urgent kisses on her exposed skin. He began behind her ear and worked his way down to her neck. He then gently moved the shawl, kissing her shoulder through the shimmery white fabric.

Christy could feel herself shaking and was silently cursing herself for getting the jitters. This was, after all, Neil, standing so close to her and wanting to share such tender moments with her. He had always sought to protect her. Neil placed one more sweet kiss on her neck and then turned away, wanting to give her time to compose herself. He walked to his nightstand and Christy couldn't help but watch as he began to unbutton his shirt.

Her brush almost became tangled in her hair as she fidgeted with it, her mind distracted by the rippling muscles of his back. He stretched his broad shoulders as he washed his face at the nightstand. Christy glanced back at her wide eyes in the mirror, as; still facing away from her he removed his kilt and carefully folded the family heirloom over the bedhead. Christy didn't think she had ever seen a man in nothing but his drawers before. Even when her brother and his friends had gone swimming near their Aunt's home, the young men always wore full costumes!

Neil, oblivious to the hammering of her heart, hummed as he slowly made himself ready for bed. He padded over to his side and casually stretched out lifting the sheets and quilt and then tugging the covers up to his bare chest. Christy watched as he lent over and folded the covers back on her side of the bed, making a neat triangle. Christy tried to appear calm as she made her way over to the bed, but Neil could see a storm of emotions in her deep blue eyes. He was not surprised when she kept the shawl on as she lay down and quickly covered her slender legs with the bedclothes. Neil rested flat on his back, his hands cradling his head on the freshly laundered pillow.

Christy, her cheeks hot with embarrassment, immediately turned away from him. Her back was as curved as the crescent moon outside the window. Neil waited for her to feel more at ease; content to merely breathe in her rosy scent. He then mumbled that he would dim the lamps, wanting to warn her in case any sudden movement made her take fright once more. He reached across and fumbled with the lamp she had haphazardly set down on her side. He then extinguished the one on his side.

"Are you warm enough, lass?" he murmured, "Do you need me to stoke the fire?"

"I'm quite alright," Christy said at once, startled by her need to be close to him, despite all of her fears. "I…I thank you."

Now that the only light came from the fire's embers and the cloudy moon, Christy felt a little bolder about turning to face him. After all, it would be hard for him to spot all of her blushes in the dimly lit room. She slowly straightened up and lay on her right hand side. Seeing that Neil was on his back helped her to feel more confident because he was not facing her. She inched a little closer, her eyes watching the rise and fall of his muscular chest. Christy studied the light brown hair on his chest, wondering about how it would feel if she were to touch it.

Many years of night calls had honed Neil's ability to perceive things in the dark. He turned his head slightly, looking down at his beautiful wife admiring how the blush made her cheeks even rosier.

"What was your favourite part of the wedding day?" Neil asked.

Christy smiled, relieved that he was not rushing into the consummation of their marriage. "I… I loved Miss Alice's prayers, my Father giving me away, my Mother's parting gift of the medical supplies, your Aunt Hattie's beautiful song, the children's happiness…Oh my… I think it was… I think it was when we danced. You are… quite the dancer!"

Neil chuckled, "I have been learning since I was Little Guy's age."

"What was your favourite part of the day?" Christy asked, inching closer to him once more.

Neil wasn't sure where to begin. Jeb telling him that David Grantland taking a leave of absence from the Cove had been such a relief. He knew it was mean-spirited, but he didn't want his former rival hanging around and messing up his chance at happiness with Christy. He sighed, running a hair through his tousled hair and then turned to face Christy.

"It was when your lips met mine for the first time, lass. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known."

Christy smiled, her eyes falling on his lips. Neil reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. She watched as he gently kissed each of her knuckles.

"You must be tired," he murmured, feeling her tense and seeing her look away.

"Yes, but…"

"Good night, Christy," Neil replied, brushing a kiss across her cheek.

With one last look of longing vulnerability, he turned away. His broad back was like a wall between them. Christy opened and closed her mouth as she attempted to work out what to say. A sense of failure gripped her. How could he think she was unready for the duties of being his wife? Had he merely married her to save her reputation and allow her to continue working at the Mission? Wasn't he in love with her? Neil felt and heard her turn away. He tried not to focus on the lonely ache within his chest as he waited for sleep to come.

A/N: Please review


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